Throne of Ice and Blood (Flame and Thorns, #2)

by Marion Blackwood

His serious eyes burn through my soul. “Does this feel fake to you?” And then he kisses me. Slowly and deeply and achingly passionately. A broken noise comes from the back of my throat. Sliding my hands up his bare chest, I lock them behind his neck and yank him closer. A moan rips from his chest as I kiss him back furiously.

His wings flare wider. I smile against his lips and move my hands up to his wings, gently tracing my fingers over the soft membrane. A shudder rolls through his entire body, and he slides his hand up from the back of my neck and into my hair, taking it in a commanding grip and tilting my head back further.

“I am a selfish person, Selena.” He lets out a long breath that ruffles my hair. “And as much as I wanted to make sure that you never won the Atonement Trials, I’m secretly glad that you were stubborn and brilliant enough to win it despite all my sabotaging.” My heart slams against my ribs. He draws in a deep breath, breathing me in, and tightens his arms around me. “Because it allowed me to have this time with you.” Something very fragile inside my chest just cracks wide open, and I have to bite my bottom lip hard to stop the sound that almost makes it out of my mouth. And all the while, I force my mind to keep repeating one sentence over and over again. We are enemies. We are enemies. We are enemies.

That smile on my mouth turns vicious. I can feel it with every step. This entire city is on the brink of war. A furious uprising bubbles like acid among the whole human population. All it needs is one spark. One person to light a match, and then this entire city will go up in flames. This heist in four days will be the event that pushes them all across the final line. And then I will be that spark.

“Oh? And here I was, thinking that I commanded all of your attention.” “You do.”

A soft laugh escapes my lips. It’s followed by a wave of sorrow that threatens to crush me. Because this is it. This is our last goodbye.

So no matter how much I hate the reality we live in, I can’t change the fact that it is our reality. I need to do this.

It was an incredibly dangerous and reckless choice that only increased the risk of you realizing that I had stolen the ring. But I did it anyway. Because I wanted to.” I hold his gaze with serious eyes, to make sure that he understands that I truly mean every word. “I did it solely because I wanted to. Because I wanted you.”

I still don’t know how much of what I feel for Draven is real and how much is just forced on me by the mate bond. But Goddess above, I know one thing. Betraying him tonight is going to shatter what’s left of my heart.

“Take all of our people and go back to the barracks.” The scowl on Galen’s face deepens. “Why?” “Since when do you question orders?” “Since you became a spineless coward.” Draven clenches his jaw. “Just do as I say.” Galen bows his head in a way that is just the tiniest bit mocking. “Yes, sir.”

“Bane just said that the trap worked.” My heart stops beating. There is a sudden rushing sound in my ears, and I feel as if the whole room is tilting to the side. “What trap?” I breathe, my mouth suddenly dry as sand. “They have caught the human resistance.”

“Stop trying to be a hero!” I snarl at him, panic and frustration thrashing inside me like a storm. “This is the only way! Draven won’t let them kill me. But he will kill you. He has been hunting you day and night for months! You are the face of the rebellion. I’m not. They need you. We all need you.” Raising the sword, I stab it in the direction of the treasury again. “So hide in there and let me take the damn fall for this!” “The midway guards are down as well!” someone yells from the corridor right before this one. “They have reached the treasury.” Boots pound against the floor as they race towards us. I try to spin towards them, but Hector grabs my arm and yanks me back to face him again. “Stop being so fucking stubborn!” he snaps as he reaches up and yanks his mask off. I jerk back in shock. And then the world just… stops. Because it’s not Hector who stares back at me from underneath the mask. It’s Draven Ryat.

“Wait,” I begin, staring at him in confusion. “What do you mean, in this city, you never joined the rebellion?” He threads the needle, avoiding my gaze. “Exactly what I said.” It suddenly feels as if time itself stops. I can hear every beat of my heart. It pounds in my ears like giant bells. Sitting there on the chair, I stare at Draven while understanding washes through me like cold water. “No,” I breathe. Draven says nothing, only draws the thread through the eye of the needle and then leans forward. “The mask is white,” I say, speaking the first half of the code phrase that we use back in the Seelie Court to secretly communicate that we are members of the fae resistance. Draven looks up and meets my gaze. My heart thumps in my chest. “And very hard to take off,”

“And then there you were, already trying to distract the patrol,” Draven picks up. “But I couldn’t let the squad leader punish you for that, so I had to intervene.” A short laugh escapes his lips. “And then you threw your drink in my face.” He shakes his head. “Azaroth’s flame, little rebel, it has been decades since someone managed to surprise me like that.” Little rebel. He has been calling me little rebel all this time, for Mabona’s sake. How could I not have figured it out? Then his expression turns serious as he meets my gaze again. “I have watched you for years. Seen the way you always try to help and always put everyone else first. And seen how people distrust you and hate you for something that isn’t your fault. And I felt a connection. I knew that I had found someone who understood what it’s like to be hated for something that you haven’t chosen.”

Something almost like pain flickers in Draven’s eyes for a moment. Reaching up, he slides his fingers gently over my jaw and then cups my cheek. “I’ve been falling for you for years, from afar, but then I truly got to know you during the Atonement Trials.” A wistful smile blows across his handsome face. “And then that day when you patted my cheek and said good talk, I fell in love with you utterly and completely.”

“Goddess above,” I breathe between bites. “I wish you would’ve told me.” Regret pulses across his face as he stands there next to me, watching me gulp down the food. He swallows and glances away for a second. “I was trying to protect you.” Then he draws in a deep breath and meets my gaze head on. “But I was wrong. You don’t need protecting.” A wicked smile, full of approval, spreads across his face. “It’s the world that needs protection from you.”

“You’ve talked to Lavendera about this?” “Well, yes and⁠—” Panic shines on his whole face as he snaps his gaze back to me. “I need to get you out. Now.” A massive force crashes into the front door.

“You have two minutes. Then I will come in there and drag you out myself. Even if I have to kill everyone in the entire ballroom to do it. Isera and Alistair included.”

“Do you know why I never used the half-shift during those first six years?” Draven cuts him off, frustration lacing his every word. Galen frowns and shakes his head in confusion. “Because you were being submissive and letting them show dominance?” “Because they whipped my wings. Every day. For six fucking years.”

I gasp, and my mouth drops open as I stagger a step back when a sudden realization hits me like a blow to the chest. My heart pounds as I stare back at Draven. “Fucking hell,” I blurt out, my pulse pounding in my ears. “They’re using dragon steel, aren’t they?”

That terrible hurt in his eyes deepens as he turns to Galen. “I thought you, of all people, would figure it out. Two fucking centuries ago. You were my best friend. You knew me better than anyone. How could you ever believe that I would just sell out our clan like that?” Galen flinches. Pain and guilt pulse across his whole face as he stares helplessly at Draven. “I just… I don’t…” Draven lets out a humorless huff of laughter. “Once I realized that all of you thought that I had simply become a… What was it you called me? A spineless coward? A worthless traitor? Well, regardless, after that, it was easier to just let you all hate me.”

Draven gives the two of them a commanding stare. “You’re the two strongest magic users in the entire Seelie Court. Prove it.”

“Lyra, take Alistair,” Draven orders. “Galen, you take Isera. We need to buy the others time.” “Take?” Alistair blurts out. “What the hell do you mean take?” “It means climb on, hold on tight, and use your fucking magic to help us fight,” Draven snaps. Then his gaze shifts to me. “You’re with me. Get on.”

Atop Galen’s back, Isera stares at Bane as if she is going to rip the dragon emperor’s heart out with her bare hands. The freezing and utterly otherworldly fury on her face snatches the breath from my lungs and makes fear ripple down my spine. Whatever held Isera together back in the Seelie Court has snapped now. And I have no idea what she is planning to do anymore.

Lyra breathes fire at her attackers while Alistair works in perfect tandem with her and uses his fire magic to protect her from the dragons that try to swarm her from behind. Isera, on the other hand, isn’t protecting anyone. She is attacking Bane with such fury that the mountain itself trembles. Ice shoots through the air like massive spears, aiming for Bane’s wings in a relentless hail of attacks. And it’s all he can do to block them all with his own ice flames.

For a few moments, nothing happens. Then the city… snaps. Screams of fury, screams of decades, of centuries, worth of suppressed anger and outrage, tear through the silent streets. Humans pour out onto the stones like a massive flood. Sprinting through the city, they carry everything that can be used as a weapon while they scream battle cries that echo of blood and reckoning. Rage burns through the whole city as the entire human population storms the Ice Palace. Tilting my head back, I scream up into the sky. Scream out of exhaustion. Out of relief. And out of sheer fucking revenge. The spark is lit. The rebellion has ignited.

What the hell is going on? Jessina lets out a roar of frustration and starts flying back and forth with jerky movements while swinging her head from side to side. Around her, Bane and the other dragons are doing the same. They’re searching for us. Why can’t they see where… Realization hits. Jerking my head down, I stare down at the part of the city that we are currently hovering over. Ember Hill. And there, on a well-kept lawn in front of a house with a dark blue door, stands an Unseelie fae with long black hair. Her yellow and violet eyes are glowing as she looks up at us. A giddy laugh escapes my lungs. She’s glamouring us. She’s making us look like part of the night sky or the buildings or something that makes us appear invisible. “This is our chance!” I call to my allies. “We’re being glamoured.”

We did it. We got out. Isera and Alistair are free. Draven is free. The entire Black Dragon Clan is free. I am free.

And now that we are no longer enemies, I might finally be able to allow myself to consider what he told me back there in his bedroom. That he has fallen in love with me. That he is in love with me. Just the thought of that makes my heart squeeze tight. I still hate that we’re fated mates. I hate that I didn’t get a choice. That I wasn’t allowed to choose him on my own. But now that we have time, now that I know the truth, I might be able to at least start figuring out how much of our emotions are real and how much of them were forced upon us by the mate bond. A smile, full of fragile hope, spreads across my lips.

My legs are just draped uselessly over his neck, and since I can’t grip with my thighs, I simply start sliding to the side when he turns. “Draven,” I croak, and cough up more blood. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“I can’t feel⁠—” Then my muscles give out. Winds rush in my ears as I fall off his back and tumble down through the dark night sky.